


Stockings for Christmas

by Trekgloria



Category: Poldark (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 11:52:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9656351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trekgloria/pseuds/Trekgloria





	

Ross handed the package to Demelza, "Open it." he told her. She took the parcel and gently untied the string, and unfolded the paper, inside she found a pair of stockings, smooth and silky, much finer than any pair she had ever had before. She was surprised at the gift from Ross. Financially, it had been a difficult time and money was lacking. Spending money on such a frivolous gift wasn't necessary. This was money better spent on any number of things, certainly paying their many bills or buying other more needed items. But, that he would buy these for her was a kind gesture. Still she found little comfort in this token action. For that is what she assumed it was. Things were difficult and that had brought a change in Ross these last few months. Perhaps it was just the challenge of their financial situation. How he grappled with all the problems, not only his, but also the problems of the many others in his care that had brought this change in him.  
Demelza understood that Ross had been under considerable strain these past few months. He believed he had a responsibility to those who depended on him, the miners and their families, she and Jeremy, but also since the death of Francis, Elizabeth and Geoffrey Charles. In truth, Demelza was proud of Ross and how he took on his responsibility for so many. Ross was a gentleman who earned respect. However, the mounting needs of Elizabeth, she often feared.  
Elizabeth was a history which permeated Ross, like a faint fragrance stimulating the senses to repeat ancient behaviors. Demelza understood that Ross had loved Elizabeth first and had almost come to accept he probably always would. The uneasy relationship between these two women began the day Elizabeth came to seek Ross’s help, the day after Demelza and Ross' first night together. On that fateful day the two began a curious relationship in which Elizabeth saw Ross as a prize to win, but Demelza saw him as a gift he must freely bestow. Demelza often wondered if that first encounter was a portent of things to come, that Elizabeth would always be a presence reminding Ross of what he might have had or worse, something he eventually returned to.  
Still Demelza acknowledged to herself, the thrill she felt that day at knowing she had something from Ross that Elizabeth would never know. What it was to feel this man take you, to be what he needed and wanted. And what Ross inspired in Demelza that night was worth any sacrifice. And though she had no claim to Ross that day when Elizabeth came to visit, Demelza relished in the knowledge that Elizabeth knew they had made love. That day Elizabeth realized someone else had been who Ross had turned too, sought her body, and filled her with his proof of pleasure. And more importantly, that she loved Ross, was willing to give herself to him, and do what he wanted and needed. Whereas Elizabeth had forsaken Ross for other desires. That was something Demelza could not comprehend. Love was love, it did not matter the sacrifices. If Elizabeth could dispose of Ross for a better opportunity, would she not dispose of Demelza for Ross if she had the chance? For a while, while Francis was alive, those feelings rarely entered their life. But now, Demelza dreaded the time Ross spent with Elizabeth. Was she jealous, yes, but the time not only took Ross away from her and Jeremy, but from time he could rest.  
No matter Elizabeth's outward beauty, Demelza often saw her as an exotic and pampered feline creature, capable of existing only as the spoiled pet. However, this cat still sought the thrill of the catch, afflicting pain, but too well fed to really be hungry for the victim. Intent only on tormenting the hapless prey till it succumbed to the final casual swat of a graceful paw. Yet in her vanity, Elizabeth could not even realize when the fatal blow would be delivered. It was that image Demelza saw whenever she was present, Elizabeth, the lap cat, comfortable, well groomed, dependent, sated, but bored. Would that Ross could see her so. However, Ross was but the mirror that Elizabeth gazed into, only that patrician beauty was reflected back, there was no depth in that reflection. But like the mirror, Ross knew that not.  
Demelza wanted to trust Ross, but too often she knew where he went, or how Elizabeth preyed upon his time. And, then there were those moments when she knew Elizabeth was drawing Ross closer to her though more clandestine actions; private looks they shared, quiet conversations, and even overheard words, designed to provoke, to entice, to entreat. Demelza felt helpless during these times, not a condition she accepted well. But, how does one fight a memory which never alters and refuses to leave? Words with Ross would not sway him. Though even a blind man could see what she was doing, Ross had no concept of Elizabeth as anything but the girl from his past, who held his heart through his darkest point. But Demelza feared, and it was this trepidation she had fallen into and had weakened her faith in herself, but more importantly in Ross.  
Still Ross standing there, offering her this gift, was a kindness. When she told him she thought he might not care for her, his actions and words belied that fear for the moment. As he knelt before her, taking the stockings to place them on her leg, Demelza raised her skirt for him. How often had Ross come to her, raised her skirt, placed his hand on her legs and journeyed from there to the summit, where he would teasingly stimulate her, stroking her till she begged him to take her. The memory of those times was delicious and left her wanting that again, but could she bear to have and yet not possess that Ross of the past? Demelza did not know.  
Slowly, he gathered the stockings into his hands and placed them over her toes. Then Ross purposefully moved them up her leg. As he began the slow advance the back of his fingers connected to her skin and moved along leaving a trail of his touch as ephemeral as a sigh. The silk and his fingers caressed her foot, her calf, her thigh, but it was his touch that brought into being, an aching tension, an anticipation that fueled a heat Demelza needed quenched. His touch always made her feel wobbly, especially so when it was this casual and gentle. The stocking glided up her legs and felt cool and velvety on her skin. When he reached the end of the stocking, he gently cupped her leg and smoothed the material with his hands. Ross then produced a ribbon and tied it at her thigh. That act, for a moment seemed to Demelza to reinforce his commitment to her, his love, and his desire, a binding of them. Once again they were bound together and the thought made her shudder slightly. He spoke of how he was still there as her love and she was not to be rid of him.  
Sliding his hands up her thighs, his agile fingers stoked her lightly. He was kneeling, fully between her spread legs. She saw that he was focused on her eyes and returned his gaze. He moved his face towards hers and kissed her tenderly. This was all she wanted from Ross, his trust, his desire, his need, and if he still had it, his love. Standing, Ross pulled her to him. His strong hands clasped her waist and he guided her to the bed. Clothes still on, Ross laid her on the bed, and raised her skirt exposing her shapely mound, the landscape of his pleasure. Her longing to have him after such a prolonged absence was an ache she had hidden from him and denied herself. For once, Demelza lay there, open and receptive to his tender kisses, willing to let him lead.  
Ross had followed Demelza into their bedroom. The day had been exhausting, like most of the days before for far too long. Everywhere so much to be done, so little money, they were safe for now, but still teetering on losing everything. Ross was tired, but when Prudie, whose only observations were about her sad state of health and life in general or gossip, points out to you how blind you were to what your wife was suffering, you paid attention. What Prudie could see and he, Ross had not, was harsh in it's accusation. Prudie's words made Ross realize he had been neglecting Demelza. Her needs were never expressed, her cares, her worries she voiced, but never a demand of her needs. And here it was Christmas.  
Watching her begin to undress, Ross realized how delicate she truly was. This wisp of a woman barely more than a child bore such responsibilities and concerns, and yet Ross felt he rarely saw her like this, so reserved. Normally she was the strong one, formidable even. It was now, as she sat at the end of the day, slowly transforming from the public facade of his wife, the mother of his child, into the private woman, passionate lover as she removed her clothes and prepared for bed. It was this in between moment that Ross appreciated how vulnerable and waif-like she was. This realization of his lacking in understanding hurt him. How could he be so unkind, so blind. Prudie's reprimand stung.  
Ross approached Demelza and offered her the small parcel. Usually, she was excited to receive a gift. Perhaps the years of having nothing and expecting even less, made her more appreciative when she was given something. But, her first response, that they couldn't afford anything, better spent toward other things, highlighted how little she expected. So typically Demelza, putting others first. What a fool he was.  
Taking the parcel at his instance, she gently untied the ribbon folded back the paper and opened it. The intake of her breath showed her surprise at this choice of a gift of such extravagance. Again this was something far beyond her expectations. He could see her struggle with the idea, and knew she wanted them. He took the parcel, kneeled before her, took one stocking from the paper. Slowly he slipped the silky material over her foot, feeling her firm, warm skin slide under his fingers, as he moved the material along her leg. She was willowy, but under her soft skin she possessed muscles born from hours of house and field work. As his hands reached the top of her thigh, he remembered how those muscles felt when she wrapped them around him as they made love. He felt cradled in that embrace, as if she was his protector. How satisfying it was to feel her silky skin slide against his. Her touch stimulated him beyond understanding, he craved it, and yet for some time now he had turned from her, deserted that union, if not their actual bed.  
The truth was he was tired, wore out at the end of the day, and yet Demelza always waited up, to accompany him to bed. Even when he was late, she was up when he came in, ready to feed him if need be, but there, waiting for him, delaying her rest to attend him. Had he never realized that before? What other things were before him and yet unseen? Ross hated to be made the fool of, and yet it was he who made a fool of himself.  
Once he had the stocking on her leg, Ross took a ribbon and made a garter. His hands on her body, sliding them along her thighs, higher to stimulate her and himself. Touching her in such an intimate way, he was soon aflame with desire to take her, to show her how much she meant to him, but also to relieve this aching tension he felt for her tonight. This was where they came together, two people became one. Ross, saw her worry, worry he had caused. She feared he no longer loved her, perhaps no longer wanted her. Pressing himself between her thighs, he kissed her. Yet her response was hesitant, as if she was unsure of his intentions. He was afraid of hurting her, and kissed her tenderly. He wanted her to know of his love, not just his lust. Unable to resist her own body's response to Ross, Demelza begin to respond. Ross stood and she with him. Guiding her to the bed, he wanted her now, but more, he needed her this night. Some things could not be made right, but he could escape them when he took her and achieved his satisfaction and brought her to her to that gripping sensation and heard her call his name and beg for more. But tonight Ross needed Demelza even more than he wanted her.  
Not wanting to separate from Demelza, Ross laid her on the bed, pulled up her skirt and exposed her mound. He needed no stimulation, he unbutton his trousers, pushed them down, exposing his hard cock and gently lay between her legs. Resting his head on her chest, he could hear heat beating, so strong, so steady, this was what he needed. His cock was poised at her entrance, and he deliberately crossed the threshold slowly. He wanted to feel each moment of entering her, how their two bodies melded and became one with this act. He heard her gasp softly as his cock fully filled her. He laid in that embrace, her sheath enveloping his cock, so tight, so warm, so moist. He realized she did still want him. In that moment realizing her feelings on thinking he no longer wanted her, sent a wave of grief over him. To think she might feel this sorrow and he be the cause, was torment. As he lay with her, she softly stroked his hair, twining her fingers in his curls. He loved this sensation. Often when they were sharing a quiet moment she would caress his face, and gently tousle his curls. Those small moments, when he ran his fingers through her tangled curls, a cascade of red gold, reminded him of the treasure he possessed in this woman.  
Still hesitant, Demelza accepted Ross inside her. The way he filled her was always so satisfying. From her first night with Ross, Demelza was always eager, desiring him to mount her, to passionately fill her with his cock. To feel him pounding within her. Early in their marriage, it seemed it was every night and often more than once. She missed that connection, for the two of them to join as one as he slid in and out of her, building a friction that had to be eased. Her ability to increase his pleasure, to hear him say that he loved her instilled a breathtaking awe she felt when he was inside her. Those private moments between them, those were what she craved. Not money, or a position in society. That Ross was respected by his own, and seen as their leader by the community which depended on his guidance, that was what Demelza wanted for Ross. For herself she wanted only Ross.  
Often, their coming together was full of energy, a coiled passion released like an explosion, both eagerly filling and being filled. Their kisses, intense, and as he mounted her, his cock pounding furiously, till Demelza felt she would faint from the intensity of that release and she would cry out: "Ross, Judas, Ross. I can take no more." And when he was ready, only then would he allow her to release her own liquor with his. Theirs was a passion full of lust and only together could they find relief. But tonight, Demelza still worried Ross was being pulled away from her. Like an injured animal, she craved the warmth and comfort of his touch, but trembled at the thought of being hurt more.  
His desire was to just remain cradled in her embrace, not to reach that sweet reward when her release with the spasms of her sheath was his trigger to fill her with is seed. But, her frailty only increased his desire. Ross ached to have her call his name, to cling to him, to know that she was as satisfied as he. Suddenly, like a pain, he was driven to pound her womb, to show her his passion was only for her, to prove he was still in love with her.  
His ardor overcame her reticence and she began to respond to his passion. She held on to him, pulled him closer, put her mouth to his and sucked at his, trying to draw his life breath into her. She wrapped her legs around his waist trying to secure him deep within her, prevent him from ever leaving.  
This response from Demelza, spawned a wild and fierce desire that brought Ross to his release. He pushed within her sheath and held himself against her entrance as wave after wave of pleasure erupted from his cock. He pressed his lips hard against hers, his tongue roaming within her mouth, as if seeking another way to satisfy her. He felt as if his seed would never empty. The pleasure was exquisite. How had he done without this for so long?  
Demelza too felt the intensity, she arched her back, pushing her groin tight against his, rubbing her self against the soft hair where his cock joined his groin like a giant tree bonding their bodies. Suddenly Demelza felt a gripping sensation and she began to call his name and then the throbbing and she absorbed his offering. Her womb contracting, squeezing his cock, greedily trying to milk the last drop of his seed. Demelza felt each wave grasp his cock, till the last drop was emptied into her.  
As they spent together, they pulled closer, Ross felt buried in the sweet heat of her sheath. In the moment Demelza forgot her worries, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. They lay in this embrace, all other concerns distant, once again lovers complete in each other.


End file.
